In the Still of the Night
by CycloneT
Summary: Night time surveillance can lead to some pretty strange conversations. [GrissomCatherine]


Title: In the Still of the Night  
  
Rating: er…maybe PG  
  
Summary: Night time surveillance can lead to some pretty strange conversations.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.  
  
A/N: Thanks to Insane Anne and Pam for their very quick and very helpful beta job. Big pats on the back go to you guys. :)   
  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
  
The stillness of the desert had a calming effect upon the occupants in the car, soothing the nervous excitement of the day and putting this last act of surveillance into perspective.  
  
  
  
"Fruit," Grissom said, angling his body against the car door so that he could look at both the woman beside him and the event that they were here to witness.  
  
  
  
Catherine stifled a yawn. "Fruit?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
  
"Um. . .that's a hard one. Lemme think about that for a minute."  
  
  
  
"Got all the time in the world, Cath," he replied, tapping his fingers on his watch.  
  
  
  
"Okay. A pineapple."  
  
  
  
"A pineapple?" Grissom spluttered. "Why?"  
  
  
  
"Well, because they're unique. They can be both sweet and sour. . . you never know which it's gonna be until you cut it open and take a bite. Kinda like I never know what kind of mood you're gonna be in until I break through your walls and see your eyes."  
  
  
  
"My eyes?"  
  
  
  
"They're the windows to the soul, Gil," Catherine recited wisely, then giggled as he rolled them into the back of his head.  
  
  
  
"But seriously . . .a pineapple? They're all bumpy and weird looking."   
  
  
  
"Some people like bumpy and weird. Besides, I wasn't saying that I think you are bumpy and weird looking. You're actually quite smooth and attractive. . ." she licked her lips lasciviously. "And if you let me bite you, I'll tell you whether you're sweet or sour."   
  
  
  
He resisted the pull in his stomach at the thought of Catherine using those sharp little teeth of hers to nibble on him. "You're not taking this very seriously," he accused.  
  
  
  
She noticed the slight stiffening of his body and felt a bolt of triumph that she could affect him that way. "I'm sorry, but I've never put much thought into what kind of fruit you'd be."  
  
  
  
"If you didn't want to play, you only had to say so," Grissom pouted.  
  
  
  
Catherine sighed and looked out the window. Nothing was happening, so she decided to play along. "Alright, Gil. What would I be?"  
  
  
  
"A strawberry," he answered promptly.  
  
  
  
"Well, that was a little too quick. Sounds like someone has been thinking about this."  
  
  
  
"It's the product of an idle mind. Had to do something while you were sleeping, and I got bored watching you drool on my shoulder."  
  
  
  
"I was not drooling!" Catherine protested, and whacked him lightly on the arm.  
  
  
  
"Ow!" Grissom complained in mock pain. "I've got the wet patch here to prove it."  
  
  
  
Catherine pointedly ignored the quite visible stain on his shirt and redirected the conversation. "So, why a strawberry?"  
  
  
  
"Because they're succulent. . . luscious. They're bold and passionate. . . they explode with life and vitality."   
  
  
  
"Gil Grissom," she asked coyly, "are you calling me luscious?"  
  
  
  
"Well, you called me bumpy and weird," he retorted.  
  
  
  
"I did not!"  
  
  
  
"Did too – but that's okay. I can live with that."  
  
  
  
"Am I luscious or not?" she demanded.  
  
  
  
"You, my dear, are without doubt the most luscious woman I have ever laid eyes on."  
  
  
  
Catherine felt the heat flood her face at the compliment and for some reason felt incredibly shy. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and quickly looked away, trying to calm her racing pulse by concentrating on her breathing. "Okay," she said, ignoring the blue eyes sparkling at her, "my turn. Animal."   
  
  
  
Grissom chuckled as he watched those emotions play out over her face. She never had mastered the art of hiding them from him. "Animal? Um, don't hit me again, Cath, but with your eyes and temperament you'd have to be a cat."  
  
  
  
"Temperament?" she asked with a raise of her brows.  
  
  
  
"Your independence, your 'I don't give a damn what anybody else thinks' attitude. Your near obsession with personal grooming, and your fierce loyalty to those you form unreasonable attachments to."   
  
  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
  
  
"Also, I'm having visions of you weaving yourself around my legs and then jumping into my lap and nuzzling my neck."   
  
  
  
Catherine let out a throaty laugh and swiped him again, her shyness suddenly forgotten.  
  
  
  
"Cath?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
  
  
"I meant that as a compliment, you know."  
  
  
  
"I know that, Gil. I took it as one."  
  
  
  
"So…"  
  
  
  
"I'm just pondering the ramifications of weaving myself around your legs, jumping into your lap and nuzzling your neck."  
  
  
  
"Cath!"  
  
  
  
She feigned deep concentration. "That, and the endless possibilities of being able to contort my body into a pretzel and lick myself clean."   
  
  
  
Grissom gasped. "Catherine, you really shouldn't say things like that to a man when you're alone with him in a dark car. It puts certain ideas into his head."  
  
  
  
"You started this game, Gil. If you don't want to play you only have to say so," she mimicked.   
  
  
  
"So…" he tried valiantly to get the image of Catherine in his lap out of his head, "what would I be?"  
  
  
  
"I know you're expecting me to say some sort of exotic bug…but I think you're more like a wolf."  
  
  
  
"Why?"  
  
  
  
"Because you're independent, strong willed, and often misunderstood. You're often alone, but you find joy in the comfort of those you're close to."  
  
  
  
"Well that sounds…"  
  
"I haven't finished yet," Catherine said. "You know, contrary to what people think, a wolf is not a solitary animal. And contrary to the image you portray, neither are you."  
  
  
  
"I don't. . ."  
  
"You do, Gil, and you know it. But that's okay – you and I both know the truth."  
  
  
  
They were silent for a moment.  
  
  
  
"You share one more quality, you know," she said, turning to him and watching his silhouette in the eerie light.  
  
  
  
He cleared his throat. "What would that be?"  
  
  
  
"A wolf mates for life."  
  
  
  
He contemplated this for a moment before he found his voice. "And you think that I'm capable of that kind of commitment?"  
  
  
  
"You love very deeply, Gil. It's one of your best qualities."   
  
  
  
"So, you're saying. . ."  
  
  
  
"I'm saying that you'd better be, if you know what's good for you."  
  
  
  
He smiled in the shadows of the car and reached for her hand. "I guess I am a wolf then."  
  
  
  
"You're *my* wolf now," she told her husband of four hours, turning away from the sun rise he'd wanted them to witness as their first act together as husband and wife, and snuggling into his side.   
  
  
  
"You know. . .I wouldn't be opposed to a little lap jumping right about now," he groaned as her possessive lips latched onto his.  
  
  
  
Catherine crawled onto his lap and positioned herself so that she was straddling him. She bent her head and trailed a path of kisses from his forehead to his lips, but pulled back when she felt his body wake up and greet her good morning. "What about the sunrise?" she asked with a knowing smirk.  
  
  
  
Grissom grunted and anchored her hips with his hands as he pulled her back down. "Screw it – we've got the rest of our lives to watch the sun come up."  
  
  
  
"What about nuzzling?" she teased.  
  
  
  
"I. . .uh. . . find nuzzling totally acceptable."  
  
  
  
"I'm so glad," she murmured, and proceeded to do just that.  
  
  
  
  
  
End. 


End file.
